


All Our Yesterdays (hurt more than I can say)

by Cross_d_a



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Baby Mandalorian!Obi-WAN, Cody accidentally adopts a bunch of kids along the way, Cody ends up back in time and raises Obi-Wan, Cody probably unfucks the SW universe, Cody remembers all he's lost and is desperate to make up for it, Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Obi-Wan is Cody's dear dear son, Obi-Wan may still love Yoda but I sure don't, The Force Does What It Wants, Time Travel, all I'm really doing is exacerbating the love for all my Star Wars favs, because let's face it a lot of these Star Wars baes are fucked up, family by choice, oh shit Bruck snuck in, references to past unrequited love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-04-24 01:29:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14345130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cross_d_a/pseuds/Cross_d_a
Summary: Cody is grey and grieving when the Force gives him another chance.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally meant to just be a one-shot, but uhh it grew.
> 
> I've already got the first few chapters written so my goal is to make this a once a week update.

Cody dreams.

There is a little boy with soft auburn hair that catches alight in the warm sun. Freckles speckle his cheeks like distant stars. His eyes are cool sunbursts of the storms of his childhood. The child’s hands are so small and warm and soft in his own, engulfed between his calloused palms like the fragile wings of a bird. When the child smiles, cheeks crinkling in delight, a warmth so soothing and familiar blooms in Cody’s withered breast. It’s so innocent it’s awful and Cody sobs himself awake with a too-young-too-familiar laugh echoing in his ears.

Cody dreams this for many years.

-:-

By the time grey has crept up Cody’s temples, spattered and soft like ocean spray, he is newly retired from the field but not from his duty. He trains new stormtroopers on Kamino and does his best not to crumble into nonexistence like so many of his brothers. Names forgotten and bodies dumped like refuse. Cody does his best to remember whomever he can, reciting their names like prayer before bed, weaving them into his morning ablutions, taking comfort in them as a way to calm down when all he wants to do is _scream_.

But with their names come other things he would rather not remember. Like how it feels to choke on dust and blood as his brothers die around him. Like starbright blades that whistle and hum like living things.

Like the _[traitor]_ , who smiled at him so kindly (but hid that viper behind bleach-white teeth) and laid a comforting, steady hand on his shoulder when Cody thought he might shatter apart (that hand that so easily could crush his throat on a mere whim).

Cody never says his name. He can’t. Whenever his lips part and the awful ache in his breast almost comes loose in the form of those three raw syllables that teeter on the edge of his tongue, he thinks:

_Traitor traitor traitor._

And that is that.

But when he dreams it is of a sweet little boy with a far-too kind smile. And sometimes when he’s lucky enough, a terrible rasp of a voice says: _“Execute Order 66,”_ and the power of it blooms like a grenade a supernova a blasterbolt to the skull because it wipes away all his identity and conflict and reason for living and he just—

Lets go.

Because it’s so much easier than the alternative.

-:-

When the grey in Cody’s hair has spread like a plague that reveals the ugly reality of the creases weathering his face and the stiffness of his joints and the bitter weariness that weighs on his heart and mind and soul—

When Cody is older and more alone than he’s ever been, he sees the first brother he’s come across in years.

There’s no denying they’re a dying breed. Lost in the cogs of the Empire’s wheel despite how loyal they remain.

Except Cody is intimately aware that not all are loyal.

This is only reinforced when a brother is returned to Kamino’s tender arms, a prisoner.

Cody does not know the brother’s name, perhaps has never even met him before. Cody has more brothers than he can ever hope to meet, of course. Millions upon millions of them, many of whom are already dead.

But a brother is a brother and Cody’s superiors believe that he is the best choice to interrogate the deserter.

The brother is weathered and scarred but as fit as Cody who is careful to keep up his own training every day.

Upon the crown of his brother’s bald head is a precise, pale scar. One that sparks an uncomfortable memory in Cody’s mind. One that consists of Rex’s shaking hand and the stink of alcohol on his best friend’s breath as he says:

_“There was a scar. On Fives’ skull. He said there was a chip.”_

And then too-wide eyes that turn to him, looking older and younger than anything Cody has ever seen,

 _“Are we- is this all we are, Cody? Is this all we’re meant to be?”_ A gulp. A whisper. _“Are we slaves?”_

Cody interrogates the brother. Apparently he’s been missing for a number of years and his _[traitor]_ was never confirmed dead.

The clone laughs a raggedy, broken sound that slivers like a knife into Cody’s skull. Blood like a mist on the brother’s lips. It spatters hot along his chin and drips down his jaw. There were interrogators before him. Ones who would not be sullied by _attachment._

“ _We’re_ the traitors,” the clone laughs, eyes near-crazed. “ _We’re_ the ones who turned our blasters on the only people in the galaxy who cared for us. The only ones who could set us free.”

Cody’s heart is pounding but he doesn’t know why. Instead of revealing the blank denial in his mind he bares his teeth in a snarl. “They would have _killed_ us _all!”_

The brother smiles up at him with broken teeth. “And yet it seems like the Empire is doing a fine job of it in their place.”

In the end Cody extracts nothing from the prisoner, and the man is sent to confinement in a different facility. It is not something Cody tries to think about.

Yet still he does.

That night he dreams of the laughing boy and his tiny, warm hands. The gentle curve of his innocent smile. Heart stuttering, Cody just barely finds it in himself to dare to slip his fingers loose and reach up to touch the little boy’s hair. It’s soft beneath his fingertips, tickling. The little boy closes his too-kind eyes and nestles against his palm, a quiet hum echoing from his throat.

 _Who are you?_ Cody wonders, _that you would trust someone like me? Someone with so much blood on their hands?_

But Cody knows.

He’s always known.

When he wakes it is with an odd sort of calm. He stares at the ceiling, watches as the grey dawn of Kamino slithers across his wall, filtered in by the tiny window a clone of his standing is afforded. Feels his lungs expand with stale breath and release from his mouth with years’-long tension. Then he sits up and stares down into his scarred and calloused hands. They’re as familiar and unfamiliar to him as any brother’s he’s seen.

The sheets rustle beneath his touch, the floor cold beneath his bony feet. He stands.

 _Boil,_ he thinks as he cleans his teeth. _Waxer,_ he thinks as he rinses his mouth. _Wooley,_ he thinks as he shaves the scruff from his jaw. _Longshot,_ he thinks as the blade slips. _Fives,_ he thinks as he watches the blood slither and drip down his cheek.

 _Rex,_ he thinks as he stares into the mirror.

He opens his mouth, lips chapped, tongue dry.

 _[Traitor]_ he mouths. The deadness in his chest he’s ignored for years and years and years rots. _Traitor,_ he thinks.

His war-torn hands tremble, his ribs ache. Blood trickles from his nose, hot on his upper lip. He closes his mouth. Swallows. Listens to the click in his throat. Opens his mouth. Tries again.

“General,” he rasps against the bright-awful flare in the back of his skull.

“Kenobi,” he chokes into the stillness of the room.

“Obi-Wan,” he sobs into the cradle of his traitorous hands.

-:-

It is perhaps far too easy to escape the ordered chaos of Kamino. Cody would be ashamed if he didn’t already hate the stormtroopers, clumsy idiots that they are despite his rigorous training. But Cody supposes he should be thankful, because the ship he steals is small and quick and stacked with enough rations to last him a week.

It is even far too easy to abandon the ship and steal another and another and another until Cody is certain he cannot be tracked but for the face he wears.

Simple, too, it is to find armour so different from his own and a helmet to hide his face. Now he is just a nameless bounty hunter, one of far too many too count. Too like his original perhaps, but as long as he does not die as Jango did then Cody will be content.

The rumoured chip is cut away by a tight-lipped surgeon within the month. Every night until its removal Cody whispers the names of the dead with every breath he takes until all he’s choking on is Ken _[trai_ _]_ obi _[ter]_ wan’s name over and over and over.

When he sleeps, he dreams of the boy and his starbright smile.

After the surgery he wanders aimlessly. Like a dead, brittle leaf adrift on the wind. Still every night he says their names and every morning, too. He lingers on Obi-Wan’s name the longest and oh is it a _relief_ to say his General’s name without that awful voice in his head chanting deathdeathdeath.

But that’s not true, because it echoes in his memories and hides in his breath to whisper out _treason_.

_Traitor._

_Order 66._

By the time Cody finds himself stepping off one nameless ship and onto another within the same afternoon, it’s been months. And all he can wonder is:

_Is it even worth living?_

What he does not know is that there has been a crucial shift between one blink and the next.

He falters a second, vision swimming as he eyes the spaceport. Cody swears the ships were more worn. That the vessel to his right was grey not icy-steel. He shakes his head to clear the confusion, squeezes his eyes shut, chalks it up to too many sleepless nights hopping from one sector of the galaxy to the next and a near-nonexistent appetite.

Frowning, this time making note to actually sit down for his next meal, Cody continues onwards to find the next ship off this nameless planet.

What he does not know is that he is worth more than this, just as all his brothers have always been.

Cody is worth more than this and somewhere, far off on the Outer Rim of the galaxy, so too is Obi-Wan Kenobi.

When Cody steps onto the next ship within the same afternoon, he’s stepping into the beginning of his second chance.

He just does not know it yet.

-:-

Cody feels the murmurs of suspicion when the Captain of the seemingly upstanding transport vessel is a hearty Devaronian who does not seem to care non-humans have been outlawed from owning businesses that cross sectors. It worsens when a crewmember catches him without the helmet on and does not even blink an eye.

It practically _screams_ at him when a fellow passenger casually mentions the Republic in passing as if it is not treason to even mention what the Empire is not.

Then there is a distress signal. A ship with a malfunctioning hyperdrive has been stranded with a dozen younglings on board. The Captain says not much more, but he’s excited and a little awestruck.

 _Unusual,_ Cody thinks. The Captain readies their vessel to dock with the other. _And why would there be so many children on the edge of this sector?_ He resists the urge to clench his fists at the whispering thought:

_Slaves._

Then their guests actually board.

Younglings. Jedi younglings. All in a row and dressed in prim-pressed robes, led by a smooth-faced Twi’lek Knight who thanks the Captain for his assistance. The Temple will gladly compensate him for fuel costs if he brings them back to Coruscant. Yes, they should have enough rations. Their old Jedi ship was stocked, of course, and they have brought with them what they need.

Cody watches the younglings stare at the crew with wide-eyes, little fists clenched around tiny lightsabers that look so shiny and new there is only place they could have just come from.

Cody watches them with a trembling heart and dead eyes and then- then he sees—

Huddled at the very back is the boy from Cody’s dreams.

 _How?_ is the first thing Cody manages to spit out from the chaos of his bruised and battered mind. Then: _Why?_

Almost immediately he squashes both thoughts because he has no right to question this. He will not look a gift-nexu in the mouth. He’ll take it in stride and see it for what it truly is:

A second chance.

He doesn’t make his move right away. He’s still reeling, halfway trying to convince himself this isn’t simply another dream. But it feels so real. It’s unlike any other dream he’s ever had despite the fact that the child is here.

Instead he waits and watches, something he’s always been good at. The younglings are gathered up and distributed into various passenger quarters. Cody is among the first to sacrifice his cot for the comfort of the children. He’s long used to sleeping on the ground, it is no trouble. The Jedi Knight bows and thanks them profusely.

This is the first time her crèche has been outside the Temple, she confesses. This is the first time they’ve met anyone who are not Jedi. It must be the will of the Force, she says, that in their hour of peril they were met with such kindness.

Cody has never really believed or doubted in the Force, but he knows this is not the reason why their two ships have come upon one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No worries we're gettin' into it next week. Just have to set up all the Cody angst.
> 
> Impatient with myself for not chugging out as many fics as I have ideas. Gearing myself up for the new chapter of my main fic.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so pleased you all like this! I love Cody so much and I figured he needed a chance at happiness, and a chance to get in on that sweet time travel action. ;)
> 
> Thank you so much for your lovely support and comments, I truly appreciate it. You guys manage to brighten my day so much!

The boy sits huddled in a darkened corner of the ship. It has been a day since the younglings were loaded onto this vessel and they have days yet until they reach the Core. In his hands is that tiny, new lightsaber of his. Over and over it turns between his fingertips. He is so small it aches somewhere between Cody’s brittle ribs.

“Hello,” Cody says, voice soft even through his helmet’s vocoder.

The boy startles, eyes immediately alighting upon him. The sheen of tears catches in the dim light. Hurriedly, the boy scrubs the hem of his sleeve across them, leaving the skin raw and red. “Hello,” the boy repeats nervously, eyes flickering over Cody’s unadorned, grey helmet.

Right, the boy has never met anyone outside the Temple. The anonymity of a concealed face must be unnerving.

With slow, sure movements that telegraph his intentions, Cody reaches up to unclasp the helmet from his armour. A slight pop and hiss releases the mechanism and Cody bares his face willingly for the first time in a long time.

The boy’s eyes widen, breath audibly catching.

“I’ve seen you,” the boy whispers.

Cody stills, suddenly unsure and wary, guilt eating up his trembling heart.

“I’ve seen you in my dreams,” the boy says, awe leaking into his voice. “You were there on Ilum, I saw you. You were so sad. You reached out and tried to tell me something, but I couldn’t hear you.” The boy’s hands clench around his ‘sabre once more, shoulders hunching. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t hear you.”

 _You shouldn’t ever have to apologize for anything ever,_ Cody wants to say. _Never never never. It is_ I _who am sorry._ I _am to blame._

“I’m Cody,” he says instead.

The boy’s smile is tremulous, uncertain. But kind nonetheless. “Obi-Wan.”

It comes as a breath of relief, a rush of certainty that yes. Yes, Cody was right. After so long in the dark Cody is finally right.

The boy— _Obi-Wan_ — lets Cody plop down next to him. The child is hesitant at first, nervous even, but when Cody offers an encouraging smile and open hands, Obi-Wan eagerly laps up Cody’s quiet companionship. So starved for affection and approval, the boy practically glows as he shows his hard-earned lightsaber to his new friend. Explains the intricacies of the parts. How the pieces called to him and how the traditional angles of it feel so right in his hands. The boy leans into him, warm despite the worn armour that comes between them.

Obi-Wan’s eyes are so bright, hands so soft, voice so innocent. It reminds Cody of the best of times with his General, when Obi-Wan was given a moment to just be himself: passionate, eager, far too curious and so heartbreakingly kind.

It causes something to swell in the hollow between his aching ribs. It flutters and pulses and flushes into a blossoming heat that makes Cody want to cry and heave and laugh all at once.

Little Obi-Wan falls quiet, looking up at him with a disconcerting amount of understanding. With one tiny hand, he reaches up and lays his fingers across Cody’s gloved ones. Leans further into Cody’s side, almost nuzzling into Cody’s arm. By the way the boy sighs, it’s as much a comfort to Obi-Wan as it is to Cody.

But this is Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan always gives as much as he possibly can. More than he can afford to.

It’s his greatest virtue and his greatest weakness.

Obi-Wan falls silent for a few minutes, letting the ‘sabre fall limp into his lap.

It’s strange how this Obi-Wan has only known him for a few minutes and yet the child seems to trust him so completely. Allows this familiarity and physical closeness. It’s as baffling as it is terrifying.

But perhaps it is another one of those Force things that Cody has never understood.

Cody doesn’t dare move, afraid that if he does it’ll break the spell that has fallen over them. That everything will fade and Obi-Wan will be snatched away again like a terrible, terrible dream. Like the reality of his memories.

But then Obi-Wan breaks the silence, fingers curling around Cody’s as if he’s attempting to take what comfort he can. “I was so scared,” Obi-Wan murmurs, as if he’s divulging a secret and, Cody supposes, the little boy is. One of the deepest, darkest secrets a Jedi can have. “In those caves I’d never felt so alone. I- I couldn’t find my crystal. I spent so long searching and searching and searching. I thought I’d never find it.” Unshed tears tighten the boy’s voice and he refuses to look up. All Cody can do is look down at that bowed auburn head and listen.

Little Obi-Wan swallows audibly, confesses, “And then…then I saw you.”

Cody doesn’t dare interrupt.

“You stood just in the corner of my eye. I remembered you from my dreams. I thought I’d follow you. It felt like I needed to. Like…like you were more important than finding my crystal. But every time I got close you’d disappear. Again and again until I was too scared to do more than look for you, too scared of losing you in the ice and shadows and the singing of crystals that weren’t mine.” Obi-Wan turns his forehead into the hard edge of Cody’s armour. Gently, oh so gently and slow, Cody reaches out to slip his fingers between the boy’s fragile skin and the unforgiving surface. The hand beneath Obi-Wan’s he turns to thread their fingers together. He squeezes it in encouragement. Somehow, he knows this young Obi-Wan has never allowed himself to be so vulnerable before.

It makes him angry and upset but he knows it’s a way of life. A cultural thing he doesn’t understand. So he keeps it to himself.

Obi-Wan swallows again, gathering the courage to continue. The boy squeezes his fingers back in silent thanks. “But then you disappeared again and this time…this time I was in a vast cave. I felt so small and the walls curved so high, higher than even the Room of a Thousand Fountains. I thought maybe I would be swallowed whole. It was so dark. Except- except my crystal was there. You’d led me to it. There in the centre of the cave it grew. It looked like a star…”

Little Obi-Wan’s hand trembles. “I cried. I didn’t mean to I swear! But I couldn’t help it. It was so warm in my hand and I just—” His shoulders tremble, too, hunched up around his ears like he’s afraid Cody might yell at him. “I was so afraid,” Obi-Wan rasps. “I thought I’d never become a Jedi. Bruck and his friends always _always_ say I’m not good enough and sometimes I think I’m not good enough, too, and I just—” He hiccups through his next words. “Jedi are supposed to be calm and wise and I’m _not._ I don’t know what I’m doing. How am I supposed to not be _angry_ or _sad?_ I get so _scared_ and I don’t know how _not_ to be.”

Overwhelmed and more than a bit horrified, Cody wraps his arm around the little boy and pulls him close. It’s as if with that gesture Cody has broken through Obi-Wan’s final wall of defense because the little boy promptly bursts into tears, clutching at Cody’s armour, his sleeves, burying his reddened tear-streaked cheeks as far into Cody’s protection as he can.

Cody wonders about his own Obi-Wan. The man he came to know over the course of several long, grueling years. The man Cody came to love. Calm, collected, the epitome of the perfect Jedi. Except not, because the Obi-Wan Cody knew was reckless, fierce, delighting in the unexpected and unusual. That man radiated confidence and courage, but Cody knew that beneath the wise veneer was an exhausted, miserable man. Someone who cared so much about everyone around him that every loss and betrayal was a wound to his soul.

Too many nights had Cody knocked on his General’s door only to find him slumped over his cramped desk, reports and maps still spread beneath his scarred hands and haggard face. Too many times had Cody seen his General curl into himself, smooth a blank mask over his distress, deliberately calm his hitching breath.

Even Skywalker, Obi-Wan’s closest companion, didn’t understand nor have the man’s full trust. If he had, Cody doubts Obi-Wan would have been run so ragged.

How did this trusting, heartfelt little boy become that man? Did no one listen to him as Cody is now? Did little Obi-Wan learn to lock away his insecurities? To never fully trust anyone?

“Am I even m-meant to be a Jedi?” Obi-Wan hiccups. “I- I have my crystal b-but am I- am I even good enough?”

Fury and grief swell like violent waters, teeming and inexhaustible. Cody cups Obi-Wan’s delicate jaw and lifts his splotchy face to meet his red-rimmed eyes.

“ _Never_ let anyone tell you that you aren’t good enough,” Cody says, voice intent. “You are the kindest, most talented being to ever live in this galaxy and _never_ let anyone tell you what you can and cannot do.”

Obi-Wan hiccups on a shaky, unexpected laugh. “But you just did.”

Tears spring hot in Cody’s eyes. “Yes, I did. But in this one instance I know better. After this you can tell me to kriff off if you want to.”

Obi-Wan’s accompanying laugh is more of a sob and Cody fights back his own tears. “You are so important, Obi-Wan,” he whispers. “More than you know. It is your decision to be who you want to be and no one else can make it for you. You are in charge of your own life and by the Force it is your own decision to make what you will of it. To do what you want.”

Cody swallows as Obi-Wan stares up at him as if he holds the answers to every question in the universe. “If you want to be a Jedi, then you’ll be a Jedi. Just don’t let those stuffed up old Masters force their beliefs on you. Don’t let them turn you into something you’re not.” _Love like you want to,_ he doesn’t say because it’s too dangerous. _Save the people who mean most to you,_ he doesn’t cry because that is an impossible task to ask of anyone.

 _Please, just remember me in the future,_ he doesn’t beg because that is something he does not deserve.

Little Obi-Wan curls close to his chest, fingers gripping the hard lines of his armour like Cody is his only lifeline. “Okay,” the little boy whispers. “Okay.”

Knight Vant is too busy to notice Obi-Wan’s absence so his return to the common area hours later goes remiss. Obi-Wan’s eyes are still red-rimmed and his knuckles bone white about his ‘sabre but no one comments. Not even his dearest friends who are so enamoured with the ship and their adventure that they barely save time to give him a greeting.

Cody tries not to resent the only family this little Obi-Wan has ever known.

-:-

“I want to go with you.”

It is the night before they’re due on Coruscant. The original passengers are weary at the length of their extended trip, but happy to be part of the Jedi’s lives. Happy to touch something greater than themselves. Everyone else is asleep besides the night skeleton crew who sequester in the deepest parts of the ship to make repairs and idle talk. Cody stands alone in the galley, heating a pot of water to make the tea that reminds him of his General. One of the only comforts he’s ever allowed himself, even in those awful years between Order 66 and his defection, though he could never admit to himself what the effect of a soothing cup of tea stemmed from. On nights he can’t sleep (like this one, like every night in his life) he curls about a hot cup of tea and breathes in the steam. Thinks of grey-blue eyes and the kindest smile he’s ever seen.

Cody pauses, halfway reaching towards the open cupboard to pull out a chipped mug. “You don’t want that,” he says quietly, heart hurting even as he says so because he knows it to be true. Knows he’s never been right for his General. That Obi-Wan has never truly needed him. That he’ll only ever hurt the man that means more to him than anyone ever has. Even more than Rex.

“I do.”

With a deep sigh that deflates his entire body, Cody lowers his arm but does not turn to face the child.

“You’re not meant to go with me. I’m old and life out in the galaxy is dangerous enough without tagging along with a bounty hunter. I thought you wanted to be a Jedi?”

Little Obi-Wan doesn’t huff but Cody can tell it is a near thing. “You said not to let anyone tell me what to do. You _said_ that I’m supposed to choose my own path.”

“This isn’t what I meant.”

“Well too bad.”

Cody grits his teeth, ready to laugh or scream at the familiar stubbornness of his beloved General. It’s heartening and oh so frustrating to know that even as a child Obi-Wan is a force to be reckoned with. With that he turns around and immediately regrets it because Obi-Wan wears that all-too familiar determined look that purses his lips and tightens the skin about his eyes and scrunches his eyebrows just so. The fold of his arms against his chest makes Cody want to wrap him up in a blanket and soothe the anxiety in the youngling’s eyes.

That only firms Cody’s decision, because young Obi-Wan isn’t ready for this decision yet. He can’t be. He might regret it for the rest of his life. Cody may have said that Obi-Wan must choose his own path but Cody can’t imagine Obi-Wan as anything other than a Jedi.

“Won’t you miss your friends?” Cody tries.

“Yes, but I think I’ll miss you more.”

Cody startles, then immediately tries to twist his face in a scowl to hide how much it hurt to hear Obi-Wan say that. Of course Obi-Wan doesn’t miss it if the way his little face scrunches up in concern is to be taken into account. Before Cody can open his mouth again Obi-Wan forges on, rushed and verging on desperate.

“I must have seen you for a reason. I must have been meant to meet you. Why else would I dream about you? Why else would I see you on Ilum?”

“I don’t confess to know the ways of the Force,” Cody begins slowly, “but if you found your lightsaber crystal, surely you must be meant to be a Jedi. You’re too young to make a decision like this. You might regret it for the rest of your life, Obi-Wan.”

Horrifyingly, tears shimmer in the boy’s eyes. “You _said,”_ he whispers, betrayed. “You _said…”_

“Obi-Wan,” Cody says softly. “Don’t follow after an old man like me. You’re meant for so much more.”

Little Obi-Wan balls his fists and throws his arms down to his sides. Trembling with tension, shoulders hunched and defensive and the expression upon his face is like an open, festering wound. “You keep _saying_ that, _everyone_ says that— ‘The Jedi are so powerful!’ ‘The Jedi are so perfect!’ ‘The Jedi have a higher cause!’ Why can’t I just do what I think is _right?_ Why are you sounding like _them_ when you just _told me_ that I should do what I want?! I never chose this so why can’t I choose now?!”

The kettle whistles high and shrill and they both flinch. Cody turns to fumble with the switch, to muffle the sound then cut it off completely so it doesn’t disturb the entire ship. When he turns around again, some unknown apology or platitude on his lips Obi-Wan is gone.

 _Perhaps this is for the best,_ Cody thinks. _Perhaps this is why I was brought back, for his very moment._

The thought feels almost worse than Obi-Wan’s death. Than his beloved General’s murder by his own treacherous hands.

It leaves him hollow and aching and when the younglings file off the ship the next morning without so much as a glance from Obi-Wan’s blank face, Cody can’t help but think:

_Maybe I am the cause of everything. Maybe he learned to never trust anyone because of me. I am the cause of all his suffering._

_The universe can’t be so cruel,_ he tries to reason as the city planet teems with people who will never care about his own petty problems. _There must be more to it than this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love tiny!Obi-Wan. He's so fun to write when he's small. I esp. love Cody having to deal with his tiny, beloved (and still ridiculously fierce) General. Also, I love a fallible Cody who can't see his own worth and falls into the trope of thinking he knows best since he knows the future. Obi-Wan will of course fix all this, muaha
> 
> More next week! ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the update is a bit later this time. It's been a long, exhausting week with a weird schedule but I think I finally caught up on my sleep last night.
> 
> Thank you for your continued readership and the lovely comments! I'm so happy you're enjoying the story! There's so much more to come! :)

There is.

A month and a half later as Cody walks down one of Coruscant’s undercity streets (he hasn’t had the heart to leave the planet, not yet not yet), a small hand grabs his elbow and stops him in his tracks. He barely manages to stop himself from twisting away and raising his blaster in defense, but he’s gotten used to beggar children though he wishes he didn’t have to.

But when he looks down it is not a beggar.

It is the boy.

“The Force led me to you,” little Obi-Wan breathes beneath the hood of his cloak, sweat along his brow and dirt smudged upon the bridge of his nose. “I can’t just let you go.”

Heart thundering in his chest, Cody pulls the boy to the side of the street, tugs off his helmet and kneels down to place his hands upon the child’s shoulders. “What are you doing here?!” Cody hisses, the back of his neck prickling as he imagines a thousand pairs eyes of a thousand raging Jedi looking down upon him. “The undercity is dangerous! Where is your Crèchemaster?!”

Obi-Wan flashes a self-satisfied grin that makes Cody’s heart plummet to his stomach. He knows that grin. It means nothing good.

“I left the Order,” Obi-Wan says nonchalantly. “I thought maybe you were so upset because you thought I didn’t really think about it. So I thought about it and thought about it and thought about it. And meditated, too. This is what I’m meant to do,” he says proudly, barely a hint of fear in his eyes. “I’m meant to be with you and you can’t make me go back.”

Cody’s hands tighten upon those terrifyingly narrow shoulders. “Do the Jedi know you’re here?”

Obi-Wan nods. “I told Crèchemaster Vant and Master Yoda gave me credits and asked if I had a plan. He wasn’t very happy but when I said this is what the Force wanted he said okay.”

Righteous indignance chokes Cody. “He just let you go?” The ancient Master just let a child out all alone into one of the most dangerous cities in the galaxy?

“Well…” Obi-Wan’s eyes cut to the side, lips pursing in embarrassed annoyance. “There was more to it than that.”

Cody waits impatiently for clarification but when none is given he realizes he’ll never get any.

“Obi-Wan,” Cody says slowly, voice low and eyes carefully beseeching. “Please trust me.”

Peering up through his eyelashes, Obi-Wan appears suddenly shy. The boy examines Cody’s expression silently. After some long moments, the boy clearly comes to a decision. “I was so angry,” he confesses. “You were so kind and the only person who really—” Obi-Wan swallows, throat clicking. “The only person who’s ever really cared about what I think and what I want to do. You didn’t tell me off for being sad. You didn’t say I needed to be a perfect Jedi otherwise I’ll never become one.” The little boy’s eyes shimmer with tears.

“I thought you were my friend. I thought you wanted me for me. And then you said you didn’t want me. I was angry, and I thought maybe you’d lied to me before. That maybe you thought I was just a dumb kid. So I left without saying goodbye because I was so _angry_ with you and I thought you wouldn’t care anyway.” With one small, near-trembling hand, Obi-Wan reaches up to put a hand on one of Cody’s.

“But I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I- I felt so safe with you. And when I _really_ thought hard about it I realized you’d never lied, not _once._ You _did_ care about me but you didn’t want me to go with you.” Obi-Wan’s tiny fingers squeeze around Cody’s and Cody can’t say anything at all. Not a thing.

“So I did what Master Yoda always says to do when we’re confused or hurting: I meditated. At first it was frustrating because all I could do was think about how angry and sad you made me. But then I realized that _you_ were also sad. But it’s the kind of sad that makes it hard to breathe all the time. You don’t want to get up in the morning or go to bed at night or eat or _anything_ but you have to because living is all you have left.”

Cody flinches, breath hitching as his eyes go wide. But Obi-Wan just continues, tiny hand warm even through Cody’s gloves.

“So I thought: ‘Why is this man so sad? Why did he like me but say I couldn’t go with him? Why was he even more sad when I got angry at him?’ And then I wondered if I really _did_ want to leave. Or if I wanted to go with you just because you’re the first person to really listen to me. To really _like_ me.” Obi-Wan frowns, expression pinching as he looks down at his narrow boots. “I didn’t want to talk to Master Yoda. He’s wise but- I couldn’t let him know how confused I was. What if I told him I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be a Jedi or not and he said I couldn’t be a Jedi because I doubted myself? What if I regretted it later? Plus he’s always so busy. I needed to figure it out for myself.”

Obi-Wan pauses, eyes going a little distant. “I felt really detached. Jittery. I couldn’t focus on anything. All I could think about was if I was meant to be a Jedi. If I’d regret it later if I left. If I really wanted to go with you…could I make you happy?”

Cody swallows down his guilt, his anguish, the fierce love he has for this little boy— and squeezes Obi-Wan’s shoulder in silent comfort.

The little boy’s tense shoulders go a bit lax. “Class got worse. I couldn’t decide. Days went by quick and slow all at once. None of my friends understood why I didn’t want to play with them or train with our lightsabers. I tried meditating in the Room of a Thousand Fountains every single day. Nothing really helped.”

Then Obi-Wan looks up into Cody’s eyes with a small smile. “Then I met Xani.”

Cody frowns. He doesn’t recognize the name, not even from the war or listening to Obi-Wan recount tales from his youth.

“Xani’s like you,” Obi-Wan says quietly. “He’s hurting. But he’s also like me because he wants to be a Jedi _so bad_ but he doesn’t feel like he fits. We talked for a really long time and then I had to leave for class and Xani said we should meet again. So we did. Xani and I met in the Room of a Thousand Fountains every day and talked and meditated together and sometimes we even shared meals. Xani says I should do what I feels right and not what other people want me to do. He said if I really wanted to leave the Jedi Order he’d miss me but he’d be happier if _I_ was happy.”

Obi-Wan falls silent and he doesn’t have to say anything for Cody to know that’s the first time anyone said something like that to Obi-Wan. Even Cody himself, who told Obi-Wan to do what he wants, said that Obi-Wan couldn’t go with him. This Xani, whoever he is, truly wants what’s best for Obi-Wan.

The sudden swell of protectiveness is unexpected, the sheer gratitude towards this unknown person. Cody wants to find them and wrap them in his arms and say _thank you. Thank you for valuing the only person outside of my brothers who truly valued me._

And then he wonders:

Where was this person during the war? Did Obi-Wan ever meet him?

Then horrifyingly:

If not, would things have been different if this Xani had been part of Obi-Wan’s life? Someone to love and cherish Obi-Wan and teach him that it was okay to trust others? That he could allow himself indulgences? That it was okay to be a little selfish and want things for himself?

But no. No, Cody can’t think like that. Especially not now. He can’t afford to think like it otherwise he’ll drown in anguished self-pity.

“I’m not happy at the Temple,” Obi-Wan professes almost in a rush, as if it’s a relief to be admitting this. “I mean- it was my home. I have people I love there. Bant and Garen and Reeft and Quinlan and Siri— I love them. And I love Yoda, too. And I love the Room of a Thousand Fountains and the way the salle mats feel under my feet and the quiet of the library and the way I can always look forward to the cooks’ sweet buns at the end of the week. But- I don’t _belong_ there. It doesn’t feel right.” With that, Obi-Wan steps closer into Cody’s space and peers determinedly up at him. “ _This_ does. I’m meant to be with you. I _know_ it. You can’t just tell me I’m not allowed. I’ll keep following you and following you until you finally admit that this is what you want, too. Because I know it is.”

With a gentle hand, the little boy reaches up to touch Cody’s weathered cheek. Obi-Wan’s eyes are far older than his body. It’s as if Cody is looking into his beloved General’s eyes. “I know you’re hurting, but you need to stop punishing yourself for something that wasn’t your fault.”

Involuntarily, Cody closes his eyes, breath hitching. _Damn the Force._ With a trembling hand, he cups Obi-Wan’s tiny fingers. Holds their warmth close to his face, leans into it, breathes. “It’s not an easy life.”

“Nothing’s ever easy.”

And _kriff_ does it hurt to know that Obi-Wan knows this at such a young age.

Cody opens his eyes. There’s something like cautious hope on the little boy’s face and Cody can’t bear to break his General in the worst of ways for a second time.

“You must listen to me, Obi-Wan. If I tell you something is too dangerous you must _listen._ Your safety is more important than anything and I have more experience than you do.”

“Okay.” Little Obi-Wan nods, expression solemn even as joy lights up his eyes.

“I’ll need to train you. It’ll be difficult. You’re going to have to learn how to fire a blaster _and_ fight hand-to-hand.”

Obi-Wan nods again, head bobbing intently. “Yes.”

“It’ll be very different from the Temple. You can’t trust people out here like you can with the Jedi.”

The little boy’s face scrunches. “Not all Jedi are kind.”

Cody’s hands tighten around Obi-Wan’s. Very purposefully does he steer his thoughts clear of Umbara.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he can’t help but ask. Guilt and hope grip his lungs tight, make it difficult to form words properly.

_“Yes,”_ Obi-Wan says, practically vibrating with excitement and annoyance both. But there’s an undercurrent of steel. A glimmer of the General Cody came to know and love.

“Okay,” Cody says, smile tremulous and eyes wet, wondering if this is a very good idea at all. If he even deserves this.

Surely it must be a cruel dream. Surely it is just the Force paying him back for every wrong he’s ever done in his life starting with Obi-Wan’s broken body tumbling from a cliffside.

But maybe it’s not, because the small body suddenly in his arms is so warm. Instinctively he wraps his arms around the little boy and holds him tight as the boy laughssobsshakes against him.

_“Thank you,”_ Obi-Wan whispers fiercely. _“Thank you.”_

Overwhelmed, Cody pushes back the little boy’s hood to thread his fingers through soft hair. Lays his cheek upon that auburn head. “It’s okay,” Cody murmurs. “It’ll be okay.”

He’s not sure if he’s talking to himself or Obi-Wan.

A flicker of movement lingers in the corner of his eye. When Cody turns his head to catch sight of it he meets the gaze of a dark hooded figure at other end of the street. A young man with fine features and smudge-black hair stares back at him, face pale as a ghost in the darkness of his cloak. The trail of his Padawan braid lingers like smoke against the column of his throat.

_Oh,_ Cody thinks.

The young man who must be Xani regards him for a minute longer, eyes dark and assessing. Then they flicker to the boy in his arms and his face softens. The Padawan watches Obi-Wan cling to Cody, still shaking with sobs of grief and joy. Xani meets Cody’s gaze one last time, lips pursed and brows furrowed in challenge.

Slowly, Cody nods and runs his fingers comfortingly through Obi-Wan’s hair.

After a moment, Xani’s eyes narrow and he nods back. With that he turns on his heel and disappears up the street, lost in the crowd.

Cody holds Obi-Wan close and wishes his General had more people like that protecting him during the war.

He hopes the universe will continue to be kind and they’ll be able to meet Xani again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long bits of explanatory dialogue always feel awkward to me so I hope this is all right. I wasn't sure what to do otherwise since this is from Cody's POV.
> 
> But Obi-Wan and Cody are finally off the face the universe together!


End file.
